Walk with Margaret Swatton, Birdwatcher. Manor Woods to Dundry slopes.
I got the bus to Bishopsworth to meet Margaret – a member of Bristol Ornithology Club. She took me on a walk through Manor woods, where the Malago flows through an ancient green wooded area. Margaret has lived in this area for her whole life, and remembers playing in the woods as a child. She points out the Manor house, which originally presided over this area, and tells me the about its recent inhabitants. She is hoping to show me the local birds, who use Manor Woods as a nesting and feeding ground. She chatters as we walk: stories of growing up in this area, climbing trees and catching minnows; descriptions of birds, how you distinguish a birdwatcher from a twitcher, and comments on the local youth who huff and puff as they climb the hill. Her stories are punctuated by sudden pauses as she listens to birdsong, and swiftly raises her binoculars to focus on a tree. There are many magpies, woodpigeons and robins, and we hear other species. When I express my amazement at how she can distinguish each bird by their song, Margaret says, well you can tell the difference between a Frank Sinatra and an Elvis Presley song, and it’s like that with birdsong.
We see a pair of blue tits hopping up an ivy-clad tree stump, and one of them disappears into a tiny nesting hole. Margaret shows me where you can sometimes spot a kingfisher: you should look at the branch overhanging the river, that’s where a kingfisher will stop to peer down into the water, disguised from below by its brown underbelly. She was hoping we’d see a heron, but instead we see moor hens bobbing on the water. She shows me where it floods in wet weather, the ground is boggy. Further up, there’s a large metal contraption, guiding the Malago into an underground tunnel – this is the Interceptor that was built in the seventies to prevent a repeat of the terrible 1968 floods.
Beyond this, the Malago disappears, with a shallow grassy valley indicating where it used to flow. Up the hill, on the grass, magpies and pigeons peck for food. There’s an abandoned pushchair in the middle of the park, and a small boy with a stick in his hand rushes at me roaring. Walking back through the more wooded side of the park, we find ‘stinking billies’ (wild garlic), and Margaret tells me these woods used to be full of wood anemones. We hear more birds, but can’t see them. As we cross over the Malago before leaving Manor woods, Margaret grabs me with excitement – did you see that? And there on a rock in the shallow water is a grey wagtail, tail wagging.
We walk back towards Margaret’s house and she tells me that in her youth, the site of the swimming pool used to be a farm. Further down, at the road junction between Queen’s Road and St Georges rd there’s a fenced off building site where they’re making new sheltered housing for elderly people. But, Margaret asks scornfully, what will they do when it floods? This junction is like a bowl, the Malago is buried, and all the water running off Dundry slopes gathers here. The drains aren’t adequate so it floods here every year and the road is closed.
